Once in a Blue Moon
by Brochelle
Summary: I'm a reporter. I have to go visit this woman in the middle of nowhere, and ask her a few questions. And only after that did I realize I forgot to write any of the answers down. MCxC.


_According to the boys at the office, I had to head out at dawn with a small offering of furs, but not until the moon has slipped past the hills and the cows had come in... only then, would she accept my presence. _

_This is why I don't listen to the boys. _

_This is why God created Internet._

_I typed in her name and waited for the little roulette icon to stop whirring. The search offered nothing I didn't know, except for an address. I wrote that down and headed for the house, located in the middle of nowhere. I found that curious. For a woman that had once been the center of absolute attention, she had become a recluse incredibly quickly. As I left the city far behind me, I pondered this and figured she had enough reasons._

_It took me four hours to find the house. I was running on fumes, practically, and when the car quit out I walked the rest of the way. I thanked God I had worn sneakers instead of heels today, but cursed the chill air against my bare arms. Dawn was spreading slowly and for the first time in my life I was there to see it. Birds were chirping raucously and all around my feet the grass glittered with dew. Tall, waving trees peered down on me, their branches forming an Arch of Swords. The wind that had previously bit at my skin relaxed and warmer thermals settled in._

_Her lights were on. The house was smallish, a veritable cottage, and fit in with its environment like deer in the foliage. I jogged the final yards of gravel and trotted up the steps. I took a moment to get my breath back, coughing slightly, straightening my blouse and taking out a pen and pencil from my pack. With a deep breath, I raised a fist._

_I knocked._

_She answered the door immediately. From my surprise crept jealousy as I took in her shapely form. She was Amazonic, to say the least, with short cropped hair and brilliantly focused eyes. She was wearing a night gown that on any other woman would have been a moo-moo, but on her it could have been mistaken for Ms America's Pageant dress. I raised my eyebrows before extending my fist, still curled for knocking the door, in hopes of a handshake. She quirked her lips but returned the formality._

_"Good morning," I said pleasantly. Behind me, somewhere in the trees, a cow lowed, as if taking his cue. "I'm here to get a story on cybernetics and synthetic bodies for A.I.s. I was told you were the best source."_

_The woman tugged a blanket closer around her and stared down on me, somewhat haughtily. Her eyes were... sad. "I suppose I'm one of the only ones, correct?" she replied softly. "One of the only legal ones."_

_"Quite. You obtained your vessel via UNSC, by demand, as I recall. Why was that?"_

_The woman stiffened and stepped back. "Come inside," she said, holding the heavy oak door open. "I'll... make some coffee."_

_I came in and sat on the comfortable leather couch. The television was on, turned to a channel presenting a documentary on protective coloration. I watched it for a few moments before the woman came back and sat beside me. She handed me a comfortably warm mug filled to the brim with foaming, steaming coffee. I swore this woman must have been sent from God before taking a long and pleasurable sip._

_"Oooh. That is good coffee."_

_The woman smiled slightly. She put her mug on the coffee table. I noticed she hadn't taken a drink. "Who are you?" she asked._

_"I'm Sarah Becaulen. Reporter for New New York Times?"_

_"I've heard of you."_

_"And you're Cortana?"_

_The A.I.-human reached for her coffee, took a diminutive sip, and stared at me over the rim. She nodded gently. "I was."_

_I had seen vids of her, once in a blue moon. She hadn't changed much. But that was the idea of the synthetic bodies. And she was the first of a new race of humans; she was their leader. Everyone knew she led an underground movement to free A.I.s from the bonds of Rampancy, much the same as she had been bound. But she had gotten the synthetic body for another reason._

_"It wasn't expected," she said abruptly. The room fell silent, anxious to hear the story she never spoke of. The whole house held its breath and waited. "After the Return, we knew what lay in wait for me. John couldn't let that happen._

_"We searched. Day and night. When we found the proper systems, I was on the brink of destruction. But my personality and memory was transferred, and it worked. John was retired and finally we had the means to be... together. I was so happy. And though John wouldn't say it, he was too."_

_She stopped and took another sip. Her eyes began to glisten and a tear fell, lonely and forlorn and very simple. I marveled at the technology involved in synthetics._

_"What happened," I pressed._

_"John was called away on a civilian mission. A group of rebels had stocked up on black market UNSC weapons. They told him he wouldn't need his armor. And suddenly, our 'married couple' routine was all too real - the fearful wife waiting at home while the soldier husband fought in a battle he might not come from._

_"I got the message a day after he left. One of the rebels had shot him. With a Hard Sound Rifle."_

_She fell quiet. I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. A hard sound rifle? I blanched at the sheer horror of the prospect. It was... it was horrendous. The last Spartan felled by such a thing. Such a terrible thing._

_"How does it feel?" I asked._

_She looked at me sharply. "Is that a trick question?" she demanded, angry pride making her voice bite._

_"No."_

_And with a snap of the fingers she was morbid once again. She slumped against the couch and drew her feet up, curling into a tight ball of synthetic rubber and metal and hair. I wanted to do something for her. Wanted to put a hand on her shoulder. But what was there to comfort her? She was a grieving wife. She would have to muscle past. "It's painful," she murmured finally. "Knowing you're too late." She looked out the window and remembered. "We would have. We could have had another life. A world together."_

_I was silent._

_"Thank you for coming, Sarah," she said suddenly, still staring out the window at the brightening sky. The stars were still visible, and her mind flooded with so many memories. I saw myself out, not saying goodbye. I closed the door behind me and stood for a moment. I considered the pain I'd brought her._

_I walked down the gravel path and passed a large birch tree. Something gleamed in the branches and I stopped, looking up._

_Tucked amongst the black branches, like cracks through the sky, was a helmet. A green helmet, with a golden visor. Hooked on a branch below it was a empty data chip. And carved into the base of the tree were the words:_

_**J+C**_

_And framed by a heart.**  
**_


End file.
